


i want a bad, bad romance

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Consentacles, Crack Treated Seriously, Enthusiastic Consent, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Other, Tentacle Sex, and that's just how life goes, eventually, sexy tentacle benefits, sometimes you're a monsterfucker who finds out you've been fucking a monster, tyson is allergic to sincere displays of human emotion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 12:46:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18739318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: “You don’t get it, it’s…” Gabe bites his lip. “You probably wouldn’t believe me.”Really, what does Gabe expect Tyson to say to that?Oh, I see, you’re dealing with something very strange and possibly monstrous, sounds exciting, I’ll leave you to it?“Try me,” he says, crossing his arms.





	i want a bad, bad romance

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is made up, 100%.
> 
> blame maria for retweeting [this](https://twitter.com/immortanjill/status/1118563267972980737) (sp. the fourth picture) in the context of gabe/tyson. thanks to d, k, m, and m for looking this over y'all are heroes truly 
> 
> warnings for: tentacles (obviously), mild discussions of low self-esteem
> 
> i'm really not sure what this is and i'm so so sorry.
> 
> ETA: the avs won game 6 the day i posted this so do with that what you will

Tyson first notices them the second or third time they’re hooking up, and he definitely doesn’t believe his eyes at first, because that kind of stuff doesn’t exist outside of some  _ very _ specific—albeit quite popular—corners of the internet. 

But then he blinks a few times, and there it is again— looming behind Gabe’s hip, slimy with ink and curling in on itself with a very distinct kind of intention. Tyson can’t see where it connects back to Gabe, but as far as he knows, that’s sort of how they work. Or, how they  _ would  _ work, if they were real, which they’re  _ not.  _ Tyson’s eyes are just… playing tricks on him, or something. Really, really weird tricks. 

He goes back to kissing Gabe, trying to ignore it, except then he feels something curl around the back of his thigh, and— 

“What the fuck, Gabe,” Tyson says, jumping back, and he expects Gabe to look confused, but instead he looks… guilty. Terrified. A little sad, even. 

Which. Tyson assumes is about something else, right? Like, it’s gotta be about the fact that he’s totally regretting sleeping with his weirdo teammate when he could be out banging literally anyone he wants, because he looks like a goddamn model. That makes a lot more sense, Tyson thinks. 

But then Gabe says, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I— I’m sorry.” 

Tyson blinks. “Wait, what?”

Gabe’s sitting on the edge of the bed and staring down at his feet now, and none of this makes much sense, least of all the fact that Gabe’s still wearing socks, even though the rest of him is naked, and Tyson hadn’t actually noticed until this moment. “Uh. Please don’t tell anyone, and, like— please don’t hate me.” 

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Tyson says honestly. If Gabe was deciding to call this off for no reason whatsoever, he probably wouldn’t… apologize, really. He’d give Tyson that vaguely condescending kind of smile that beautiful people give Tyson-grade people to let them know they’re out of their league. 

Not that Tyson’s ever gotten that from Gabe, but if there were ever a time to whip it out, it would be now. 

Instead, Gabe just looks sort of sick. “It’s fine. You— you should go.” 

“No,” Tyson says, against his better judgment. He’d been having a fine time until the still-unexplained interruption; he would like an explanation, and clearly Gabe has one, so. “Tell me what’s going on.” 

“You don’t get it, it’s…” Gabe bites his lip. “You probably wouldn’t believe me.” 

Really, what does Gabe  _ expect  _ Tyson to say to that?  _ Oh, I see, you’re dealing with something very strange and possibly monstrous, sounds exciting, I’ll leave you to it? _

“Try me,” he says, crossing his arms. 

Gabe stares at him for a second, apparently realizes that Tyson’s not going anywhere until he explains a few a few things, then sighs. 

“Fine,” he says. “Just remember— you asked for this.” 

Tyson’s about to tell Gabe that he’s godawful at making things sound unappealing, but he’s cut off by the sudden appearance of extra limbs at Gabe’s sides, radiating out from his back and holding themselves upright, like they’re posing, or something. Also, Gabe looks different, his complexion a little darker, eyes fully black, and Tyson can’t tell if he’s actually gotten bigger, or if that’s just a byproduct of the rest of it, but either way— 

“Oh, wow, so you’re just a straight-up demon, huh,” Tyson says, sort of frozen. He should probably be scared. He should also probably be wearing clothes. There are many things he should probably be doing, for sure, and he’s definitely not doing any of those. 

Suddenly, Gabe’s back to being Gabe again, naked, flushed, and frowning. It’s the same way he looks in the locker room when Tyson makes a self-deprecating joke about his body, except they’re in Gabe’s bedroom for sex reasons, and Gabe is apparently a demon. He’s also still wearing socks. Tyson’s mind has decided that those two things are equally weird in this particular moment. 

“Look, I promise I’m not gonna do anything… bad, okay?” Gabe says. “It’s just— y’know. One of those things.” 

“Oh, yeah, no, for sure,” Tyson says, right on the shockingly fine line separating perfectly calm from vaguely hysterical. “You just… are a demon, for several years, and don’t tell your friend, and that’s just— how life goes, right?” 

“Wait,” Gabe says. “You’re mad at me about the keeping it a secret part?” 

“Who said I’m mad?” Tyson says, and— okay, yeah, sure, his voice sounds angry, and maybe weirdly high-pitched, but he’s not  _ mad, _ just— flustered. A little overwhelmed. Maybe still kind of horny from the sex he and Gabe were going to have. If there’s any anger here, it’s all being directed at Gabe’s socks, which have absolutely no business being on his feet right now. “I’m just saying, you kept a secret from me, and it’s sort of a big deal.” 

“I didn’t keep it from  _ you, _ I—  _ no one  _ knows, Tys.”

Tyson softens at that, because he likes being the first to know things, and he always feels a little warm at the way Gabe says his name. “Not even EJ?” 

“No,” Gabe says, looking a little incredulous. “This isn’t the kind of thing you tell anyone, ever.” 

“Why not?” 

Gabe stares at him, disbelieving. “Tyson, I’m… a monster.” 

Tyson snorts. “Okay, well— that’s a little dramatic.”

“ _ Dramatic?”  _

“I mean, yeah, there’s the whole demon thing, but— you’re not a  _ monster, _ dude. You’re just a hockey player with a tentacle or two.” Or, like, six or seven. Tyson didn’t get a clear count. 

“You’re seriously not scared of me?” 

Tyson is totally scared of Gabe, but that’s mostly because Gabe is ridiculously pretty and smiles at Tyson way too much. Compared to that, the demon thing is… kind of humanizing, actually. 

There’s probably a better word to use there. 

“Nah,” Tyson says. “If you were gonna do something evil, it probably would’ve already happened.” 

“I’m not evil,” Gabe says quickly. “I’m only even half a demon, technically.” 

“Which half?” Tyson asks, because he can’t help himself, and he’s gratified when Gabe frowns at him, like he’s about to tell him to take this seriously in his worst attempt at Captain Voice. 

“How are you managing to be a dick about this?” 

“I’m a man of many talents,” Tyson says easily. “So, uh, the thing that grabbed my leg earlier—” 

“I don’t know what happened there,” Gabe says. “They don’t usually do that.” 

“What, make an appearance in the bedroom?” 

Gabe flushes, all the way down to his chest, which is weird timing, in Tyson’s opinion. “I mean— it can be harder to control when I’m distracted, but they’ve never… reached out like that.” 

“Oh,” Tyson says, furrowing his brow. “I think I’ll take that as a compliment?” 

“How on  _ earth _ is that a compliment?” 

“They like me,” Tyson protests, and Gabe barks out a laugh, effectively ending the longest period of time for which Tyson’s ever had the upper hand between the two of them. 

“Everyone likes you, Tys,” Gabe says, giving Tyson that stupid brilliant smile that makes Tyson feel small and kind of furious. 

“Well, I value their opinion,” Tyson says, pretending to sound haughty, and Gabe just laughs again, which makes Tyson feel a lot of super funky things. “I mean— aren’t they, like, you? Or are they a separate…” Tyson doesn’t know enough about tentacle demon anatomy to finish that sentence. He doesn’t know a lot about anything, generally, but he especially doesn’t know a lot about tentacle demon anatomy. 

Gabe shrugs. “I mean, they’re— like, I can control them, but they’ve got a mind of their own, sometimes?” 

“Huh,” Tyson says, and this conversation had apparently gone light at some point, but it’s back to being a little heavy now, at least on Tyson’s end. “What do they feel like?” 

“What do you mean?” Gabe asks. 

“Like— when they touch something, do you feel it? Do you like the way they feel? Do you ever just… touch them?” 

“Uh,” Gabe says, and Tyson feels mildly embarrassed for asking so many questions, but— look, he’s spent a significant amount of time in the very specific corners of the internet where these kinds of things come up, and there are some opportunities you don’t pass on. 

“Sorry,” Tyson says. “They’re just…” 

“Weird?” 

“That’s one word for it,” Tyson says, and he’s not sure why it comes out all low, but behind Gabe’s hip he can see one of them, looming and dark, and he doesn’t even realize he’s spacing out at it until Gabe’s being all embarrassed again. 

“I really don’t know why this keeps happening,” Gabe’s saying. 

“It’s okay,” Tyson finds himself saying. “They’re cool.” 

There’s a beat of silence, and Tyson’s sort of staring at Gabe, waiting for them to come back, when he realizes that Gabe’s giving him a weird look. 

Tyson gulps, but decides that he’s a grown man and he’s not going to apologize for occasionally being into some freaky shit when the guy he’s hooking up with  _ is  _ that freaky shit. 

“So,” Tyson says, “tentacles.”

“Are you… asking them a question?”

“No, dipshit, I’m asking  _ you _ a question.”

“What question?”

“You know.” Tyson bobs his head. “Tentacles?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever thought of them as tentacles before.”

“Wel, that’s what they are,” Tyson says. “So, like, c’mon.”

“What are you talking about?” Gabe sounds vaguely impatient, which is annoying, because he’s the one being slow on the uptake here.

“ _ Tentacles _ ,” Tyson says, trying to add emphasis, and, when Gabe still doesn’t seem to get it, “Oh my god, I’m trying to give you an in to talk about your weird sexy tentacle adventures, dude.”

That seems to get Gabe on the same page, and he reacts by sputtering all indignantly. 

“Okay, that’s— first off, that’s  _ personal _ —”

“Right, of course, because there’s no precedent whatsoever for me being interested in your sex life,” Tyson deadpans. 

Gabe’s face is still bright red. “That’s different.”

“Is it, though?”

“ _ Yes. _ ”

Tyson hums. “You still haven’t denied it, you know.”

“What?”

“The existence of sexy tentacle adventures,” Tyson says. “You haven’t denied it.”

Gabe’s eyes turn dark with something Tyson’s pretty sure is shame, and he looks around the room for a few seconds before he huffs out a breath, crosses his arms. “You know you can’t tell anyone else about any of this, right? You’re not gonna be able to give me shit in front of the guys.”

Tyson’s got plenty of reasons he’s not gonna tell anyone about this, but respecting Gabe’s privacy is probably the most important, and anyway, Tyson’s not that much of an asshole. “No shit.”

A few more seconds, and then Gabe sighs, lies back on the bed, and throws an arm over his face. “Look, sometimes I’m jerking off, and it just… happens, okay?”

“You mean—”

“Don’t say sexy tentacle adventures ever again, please,” Gabe says. “But— yeah.”

Tyson tries to picture what that would look like— Gabe stretched out over his bed, maybe, a hand around his dick and a tentacle filling him up from behind, or maybe the opposite, Gabe’s hand desperately thrusting in and out as a tentacle deals with his dick. It sounds, at worst, convenient, and at best, overwhelmingly hot, and a part of Tyson is actually sort of jealous, but mostly, he just wants to— 

Well.

Mostly, he just  _ wants. _

“Alright,” Tyson says, trying to sound relatively normal. He misses actual normal by a mile, but he thinks he’s in the margin of normality for tentacle sex talks. “Could you, um— show me?”

Gabe sits up fast. “You mean— you want me to… do that? While you watch?”

Tyson shakes his head, and he’s feeling awkwardness in every single joint in his body, but he takes some solace in the fact that Gabe sounds almost excited, if not mostly just breathless. “I mean, like— you said they like me, right?”

Gabe just stares at him, and Tyson sighs internally, then walks over to him and puts one knee on either side of Gabe’s thighs. It’s awkward, and not really all that seductive, but they’re both still naked, so Tyson’s dick reacts to being so close. Not that he hasn’t been been vaguely hard this entire time, but it’s a little more prominent at this particular moment— prominent enough that Gabe notices, anyway. 

He puts his hands on Tyson’s hips. “Is this— are you being serious, right now?”

“Don’t judge,” Tyson says, his cheeks heating up. “You’ve gotta see the appeal here, right?”

From this angle, Gabe is looking up at Tyson, and his gaze is so intense that Tyson wants to run away and hide. But he wants to do this more, so. He doesn’t. 

“But I’m— it’s  _ weird,” _ Gabe says, but Tyson just shrugs, because he knows it’s weird, but. 

“Life’s weird,” he says. “Might as well enjoy the weird parts you like, right?”

Gabe looks at him for another long moment, almost like he’s searching for something. 

“Are you sure?” he finally says.

Tyson doesn’t roll his eyes, but it’s a near thing. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Do you promise?”

And the thing is— Gabe sounds legitimately worried, and as much as Tyson doesn’t see the big deal, he’s not gonna be an asshole about this being a big deal to Gabe. 

So, like, he still wants to roll his eyes, but that’s mostly because of his pathological need to deflect genuine emotion, so he doesn’t, just looks Gabe right in the eye to show that he’s actually serious about this. 

“I promise,” Tyson says. “I, uh. Really want you to.”

Gabe’s eyes wander down Tyson’s body, like he’s taking him in, which always makes Tyson feel like he’s being actively set on fire. For someone who loves attention, Tyson… actually kind of hates attention, especially when it comes from Gabe, because it’ll never not be weird that Gabe really does think he’s cute. Gabe probably likes the way Tyson looks more than Tyson likes the way Tyson looks. Tyson’s made more than one joke about Gabe needing an eye exam because of it, which, it turns out, is a very effective way to get Gabe to whisk him away to a supply closet and kiss him. It’s like he thinks that if he sticks his tongue far enough down Tyson’s throat, he can physically transmit self esteem via mouth-to-mouth. Tyson’s got a secret theory that Gabe’s only sleeping with him because he wants to fuck the confidence into him.

“Alright,” Gabe says, and the words catch a bit, like  _ he’s _ the one who’s overwhelmed. “If you get weirded out, just— tell me, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, communication is important, I know the drill,” Tyson says. “Now, can we—”

He’s surprised when Gabe kisses him then, because it’s a little sudden and very fast, but Tyson can go with that, because he’s very agreeable when it comes to kissing. Tyson’s a big fan of making out, honestly, and he’s heard he’s pretty good at it, too. 

Gabe in particular seems to be a big fan of kissing Tyson, which is nice; it’s a little sloppy and more enthusiastic than Tyson is used to, but he’s adjusted quickly. 

And then… there are tentacles. 

It starts by sliding down his back, settling in the curve of his ass, teasing at his hole. The sensation is so strange and incredible that Tyson can’t do much besides fist a hand in Gabe’s hair and gasp into his mouth, which is when another one wraps around his back before working its way down his stomach. 

They’re slimy to touch, but also soft, flexible but firm when they decide to grip on. Apparently, they’re really into teasing, because it takes forever for one of them to work its way around Tysons dick and start jerking him off. It’s slow, too, and Tyson groans on instinct, because he’s being touched pretty much everywhere at once, but the sensation on his cock is still all light and cautious, which is incredible and jarring and makes Tyson want to beg. 

“Come on,” he says, and he’s surprised when that actually works, except then he feels Gabe’s mouth against his and promptly remembers that this isn’t some weird niche porn fantasy, it’s— Gabe. The tentacles are Gabe, the touch is Gabe, the way he’s being enveloped in a whole spectrum of sensations is all thanks to Gabe fucking Landeskog. 

“God, I can’t believe you like this,” Gabe says, his voice low. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“You’re not allowed to chirp me while you’re touching my dick,” Tyson tries to say, except every other word turns into a gasp. He doesn’t actually mind the banter. He’s just incapable of not responding to it. 

“That wasn’t the right word,” Gabe says. “I meant— you’re incredible.”

Tyson refuses to be anything but confused by that. “What?”

“You’re incredible,” Gabe repeats, irritatingly sincere as ever. “I can’t— I never thought I’d get to share this with anyone, but you— you  _ like  _ it. It’s… god, you’re amazing.”

There’s so much genuine emotion in the words that Tyson might actually have an allergic reaction. “It’s not exactly a favor.”

“Still,” Gabe says, and he sounds fucking reverent. Tyson never in a million years thought that his lowkey fucked-up porn preferences would ever lead to an uncomfortable amount of praise, but life is apparently full of surprises. 

Before Tyson has a chance to attempt a response, there’s a flurry of sensation— one filling him up, another squeezing him tight, and everything else working to make sure every inch of his skin is being touched. And because this is, like, his deepest, most fucked-up fantasy, it doesn’t feel like enough, so before he can really think about it, Tyson lets his jaw drop, hopes Gabe gets the message. 

Apparently he does, because Tyson feels something sticky at his bottom lip a few seconds later, and that’s the moment where he just— short-circuits. 

He’s  _ full,  _ is the thing, overwhelmed by feeling at every turn, and every time he so much as moves there’s something poking or pressing in the best possible way. And he’s got two hands free, but there are tentacles wrapped loosely around his wrists, and of course Tyson’s deeply fucked-up brain is thinking about how he’d really like it if Gabe squeezed tight enough that Tyson couldn’t move at all. Which Gabe won’t, probably— even if he’s got the sexy demon eyes going again, he’s still Gabe, and even as a demon, he probably wouldn’t do something like that without talking to Tyson about it. 

But still, it’s… a  _ thought.  _

Anyway, Tyson’s perfectly capable of feeling subject to whatever Gabe and his tentacles want without having his hands restrained. This is probably the first time he’s ever been truly pliant, and it feels just as good as he always thought it would— like calm, like he’s not thinking about anything outside this moment, like he can just be still, and that’s okay, that’s  _ right. _

“Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to touch you like this?” Gabe says, his voice all demon-low. “That’s why they kept coming out, you know— maybe they knew you wanted to be touched.” 

He’s totally playing up the demon speak for Tyson’s benefit, but Tyson doesn’t have to be fooled by it for it to work on him. Or maybe the part that works is Gabe jerking his dick just slightly too hard and too fast. It’s probably both, and it definitely doesn’t matter. 

“You’re gonna come like this,” Gabe says, and it’s something between an order and a request, and, like— it’s not like Tyson was waiting on his permission, but he can’t help but moan when he hears it anyway. It’s like he’s given up on caring what his body does, trusts that that’s Gabe’s job right now, and that’s— it’s a really great feeling, alright? Hot and free and easy and loose and tight and just the slightest bit shameful, but also, completely shameless. 

Tyson probably comes too fast, but, like. Who the fuck cares. 

“Oh my god,” he says, once Gabe’s tentacles have retreated. His voice is kind of hoarse, which is very, very awesome. “Oh my  _ god.”  _

“Yeah,” Gabe says, sounding breathless, and that’s when Tyson realizes that Gabe’s jerking himself off right now. which, like, is happening right against Tyson’s leg, so he probably should’ve felt that. 

In his defense, he was distracted. 

“Oh, holy fuck,” Tyson says, because, like, hard, fast, hot, etc. “Do you want me to—” 

Before Tyson can finish that sentence, Gabe is shaking his head and coming all over his lap, because apparently this situation can and will get messier. 

“—I guess not,” Tyson finishes. 

Gabe gives him his best attempt at an unamused look, except he’s still sort of coming, and he’s also smiling, so it doesn’t really land. 

“Shut up,” he says, mostly just exhaling.  

Tyson just smiles at him, hopes it’s charming. “No. I have no filter, and you love that about me.” 

“I have bad taste,” Gabe says, still breathing heavily, but he lets Tyson rearrange them until they’re lying down on the bed, doesn’t even have anything to say when Tyson starts to run his finger through the come on his chest. 

Whatever. Jizz comes off in the shower. They’ll deal with it later. 

“I meant what I said before,” Gabe says, once he’s finally caught his breath. “You really are amazing.”

“I think you did most of the work,” Tyson says, nodding in the direction of where he thinks Gabe’s tentacles live when they’re not rocking Tyson’s world.   

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really bad at taking compliments?”

“Not in so many words, but I’m aware, thanks,” Tyson says. “In my defense, that is a really weird compliment.” 

“You’re weirded out by compliments, but monster sex is fine?” 

“Look, man, I’m not gonna even try to explain all this,” Tyson says, gesturing to his body, but referring to his self-esteem. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Gabe says, wrapping an arm around Tyson’s shoulders. Because he’s disgusting, he presses a kiss to Tyson’s head, which is actually sort of awesome, but Gabe can never know that. “Thanks, though.” 

“Any time, man,” Tyson says, which is a strangely platonic thing to say after a tentacle sex debrief, but considering that they’re almost entirely naked and covered in come and Gabe is  _ still _ wearing socks, there’s probably no normal thing to say in this situation, so he thinks he’s in the clear. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> some demons?? have poor circulation?? and wear socks during sex??? to cope???????????

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] i want a bad, bad romance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18948355) by [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery)




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